


the best things happen while you're dancing

by margosfairyeye (Skittery)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Come Eating, Coming In Pants, Dancing, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Getting Back Together, Hand Jobs, Lost Decade (Roswell New Mexico), M/M, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27054700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skittery/pseuds/margosfairyeye
Summary: Set during the lost decade; Michael meets Alex at a club and they get very well reacquainted on the dance floor...-- --Fill for Kinktober Day 12: Frottage
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 7
Kudos: 99





	the best things happen while you're dancing

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for Kinktober Day 12: Frottage
> 
> \-- --  
> cw: exhibitionism/public sex (club dancefloor/bathroom)

Michael stepped into the club and looked around, taking it all in. It was big, and dark, with wildly flashing lights, and loud, pumping music. He would have hated it more than anything else except that the only reason he was here was to meet Alex, and he would have stomached almost anything for that. 

He moved around the cluster of people near the door, trying not to feel too out of place, looking for Alex. He spotted him after a moment, standing up by the bar—the most well-lit area in the place. Alex always was smart like that. 

It had been four years since they’d seen each other. Long, tense years, filled with the kind of real-life bullshit Michael had never been able to avoid, and the constant memory of the moments when he thought things might improve. It had been years, and Alex had been gone, and when Michael had gotten the text asking him to meet Alex here, he’d gotten in his truck and driven hours away without even stopping to think about it. 

Alex looked the same, except for the ways he didn’t—the short hair and the lack of any jewelry, the way he looked guarded, harder. He still smiled, though, when he saw Michael, and something that had been tight in Michael’s chest for days loosened. 

“Alex,” he said, stopping in front of Alex, looking him up and down partly for show, and partly because it had been goddamn years, and he deserved to look, he  _ needed _ to look. They were dressed almost the same, jeans and a t-shirt, but no one would confuse Alex for a cowboy, and no one would confuse Michael for anything else. 

“Guerin.” Alex sounded as happy as Michael felt, which was good. Michael had been half afraid this was some kind of weird friendship thing, even though being summoned to a gay club in the middle of nowhere wasn’t exactly the recipe for platonic friendship, he was just always waiting for that shoe to drop. 

“You look good,” Michael said, because he had to say something. 

Alex smiled like he knew there was a bittersweet edge to the compliment. “So do you.” He said it quietly, but appraisingly, like he knew Michael needed the reassurance of what this was; maybe like Alex needed the reassurance, too. He sounded a little tipsy, and Michael couldn’t blame him—Michael had swallowed more than he meant to from his own flask before leaving the truck. 

“Buy me a drink? Since I did drive across an entire state for you.” Michael leaned on the bar next to Alex, purposefully getting into his space, just a little, just enough to see if that was where things were going. He was practiced at this now,  _ far _ more practiced than he was in high school, but he still felt nervous in a way that was almost foreign at this point—the stakes with Alex were always higher. 

Alex hesitated for one terrible, long moment, and then grinned and nodded. Michael motioned over the bartender and ordered a whiskey, watching Alex take a long pull from a bottle of beer. The music in the club picked up, something with a lot of bass and unintelligible lyrics that people still seemed to know. 

Michael watched the people crowding the dance floor, writhing and swaying, some of them wearing far too little clothing for being out in public. Clubs were different than bars, that was for certain. It looked gross, and sweaty, and overly sexual and kind of…hot, actually. 

“Wanna dance?” Michael asked, bracing himself on the bar and leaning close to Alex’s ear to be heard. Close enough to smell the soft scent of something Alex was wearing and the scents that were purely Alex, that couldn’t change with time or scenario. Michael found himself inhaling it like it was the air and he was drowning. 

Alex frowned, looking out at the dance floor. “I don’t know…” 

“Alex, why else are we here?” Michael lifted his hand off of the bar and slid it down Alex’s arm to his palm, winding their fingers together cautiously. Alex looked alarmed, then seemed to remember where they were. They were just another couple, another nameless pair of boys hiding in the darkness of the club. Alex flexed his fingers, tightening his grip on Michael’s knuckles.

“Yeah, okay.”

Michael nodded, grinning as he pulled Alex towards the dance floor. He’d been half hoping for another answer to the question of why they were there, for something truer than dancing, for words that would make him ache, that he could hold close for the next four years, like a wound he could poke for the ache that meant he was alive. But he would also accept dancing. 

Abandoning their drinks at the bar, they waded into the writhing sea of the dance floor. They swayed at each other, neither of them brave enough to close the distance quickly, inching closer together like slow magnets with every beat of the music. Michael watched Alex’s face as he danced, watched the way he was slowly letting his guard down, his face softening, his limbs loosening. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, it was just like being back in high school—it was the look that pulled Michael in, the intensity he couldn’t break away from, that felt less like a spotlight than a soft glow, like the sun. 

The song changed to something boomy but slower, and Michael took the opportunity to reach out and pull Alex to him, wrapping his hand around Alex’s waist. He could see Alex try to hide his initial panic, and Michael let his grip loosen, giving Alex the opportunity to pull away without it feeling too awkward, to laugh and say it was too much too quick. Alex took a breath and let himself relax against Michael, wrapping his arms loosely around Michael’s neck. 

Michael moved his hands to Alex’s lower back, letting them rest there with a firm pressure. Alex inhaled quickly as the change pressed him in even closer to Michael, barely any space between them. They swayed to the music. 

The thing was, Michael  _ knew _ how to dance. He knew how to line dance, and he knew how to dance to this pounding bass, how to press his hips against someone and move like it was foreplay. He usually reserved it for the tougher one night stands, but he knew how to dance well enough to close the deal. He just wasn’t sure if Alex knowing that would work out in his favor or not. 

Michael rolled his hips experimentally, in time with the bass echoing around them, and Alex inhaled sharply again, pressing his hips into Michael like he’d been holding back, waiting for Michael to make a move. 

Keeping one hand firmly on Alex’s lower back, Michael caressed the other hand up Alex’s back, pressing against his shoulder blade, and rolled his hips rhythmically against Alex again. Alex moved in time with him now, his fingers curled against the back of Michael’s neck. Michael could feel Alex’s breath on his face, warm and vaguely alcoholic, and Michael wanted to kiss him so badly he could feel his body vibrating with it. 

Michael pressed his forehead against Alex’s, caught up in the closeness, circling his hips. Michael could feel himself getting hard with every touch of their bodies, every circled hip thrust, and it just spurred him to press harder against Alex, until he could feel the hard pressure of Alex’s cock against him. Alex moaned softly, just barely audible over the loud music, and wove his fingers into the hair at the base of Michael’s head, still gripping his neck with the other hand.

Michael exhaled as the song changed to something more uptempo, but didn’t change the way they were dancing, continuing to grind against Alex. The feeling of his cock brushing Alex’s, even through layers of fabric, was a phenomenal tease, and he felt electric with want and need, desperate to keep dancing, desperate to get Alex alone as soon as possible. 

Alex was breathing heavily, and even in the indirect lighting of the club, Michael could see his eyes were dark with lust and his face was flushed. Michael adjusted his motions so that their cocks were rubbing together with every thrust, heat flooding through him. Alex moaned again, and Michael felt like they were doing something illicit, like they were fucking in the middle of the dance floor instead of just dancing suggestively, like he was getting away with something, hearing Alex’s moans while an entire floor of people were none the wiser. 

“And to think,” Michael said, trying to sound nonchalant even though he could hear the desperate edge to his own voice, “you didn’t want to dance.”

Alex laughed hoarsely, rubbing himself more forcefully against Michael, rolling his hips in a way that made Michael let out a quiet moan. Michael slid his hand down Alex’s back, resting it on the waistband of Alex’s jeans briefly before slipping his fingers under the waistband, rubbing his palm against Alex’s ass through the thinner fabric of his boxers alone. Alex gasped, his fingers tightening against Michael’s neck and in his hair. 

“Someone will see,” Alex said quietly, although he didn’t pull away, made no move to put any distance between them.

Michael smiled at him. He could feel the heat of his touches, the spot where his hand rested on Alex’s ass burning like a brand. “No one is watching us,” he reassured, moving his mouth close to Alex’s ear, “Besides, I’ve been waiting for four years to touch you like this again.”

Alex shivered, his breathing growing ragged in Michael’s ear. Michael pressed against Alex’s ass as he moved his hips, their cocks rubbing together obscenely. Michael was painfully hard, his hips twitching helplessly towards Alex, seeking friction with each roll. Alex moaned again, the sound loud against Michael’s ear, Alex’s hips pressing against Michael more insistently.

Michael pulled his head back, meeting Alex’s eyes quickly before catching his lips in a kiss. It was rough, and frantic, lips and tongues and teeth, and it was still perfect—the same warmth Michael had always felt kissing Alex spread through him immediately, the same soft ache in his chest. He nipped at Alex’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, gratified when Alex’s motions became more frantic, rubbing against Michael faster and harder. 

Alex tugged on Michael’s hair as he continued to grind against Michael’s cock, licking at Michael’s lips and moaning into his mouth. Michael could feel Alex’s motions getting more frantic, less dancing and more fucking himself against Michael, pressing more insistently, his breathing rough. Michael pulled his hand from Alex’s pants, only to slip it down again inside his boxers, pressing his palm to the skin of Alex’s ass, squeezing lightly as Alex rubbed against him. 

Michael was starting to wonder if they should just leave before they accidentally started undressing each other, when he squeezed Alex’s ass a little harder, and Alex cried out, groaning as he stopped dancing, dropping his forehead to Michael’s shoulder, his hips pressing against Michael’s in little uncoordinated stutters, his hands gripping Michael’s neck like he was trying to stay upright. 

“Did you just—?” Michael ran his thumb along the top of the crease of Alex’s ass, holding Alex close, letting Alex shudder against him. 

Alex looked up at Michael with glassy eyes, his face a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. It cleared in a moment to pure embarrassment, and he tried to pull away. “Fuck, I’m sorry—I can’t believe I just—shit.”

Michael held him tightly, leaning in for a kiss. His cock was throbbing in the tight confines of his jeans. “Don’t apologize, that was hot as hell.” Alex gave him a small smile, and Michael kissed him again. Michael slid his hand around Alex’s body, discreetly palming him to feel the growing wet spot on his jeans around his softening cock. “Fuck, Alex.”

Alex still looked uncomfortable, and Michael understood, even though the thought of Alex cumming just from rubbing up against Michael like that was unbelievably hot—Michael was going to be getting himself off to this memory for a long time, he could tell. But he had to convince Alex not to be ashamed of it, that he was  _ into _ it. 

“Come on,” Michael said, spotting the sign for a bathroom across the room from them. He freed his hand from Alex’s pants and grabbed his hand instead, leading him over to the bathrooms. 

“What are we doing?” Alex asked as Michael pushed him into an open stall, pressing him back against the metal side wall. 

“I want to touch you,” Michael said softly, even though the only other person in the bathroom was singing loudly and drunkenly. 

“I already came.” Alex sounded like he thought Michael might not know that, which was both ridiculous and misguided. 

“I  _ know _ ,” Michael said, pressing himself against Alex, pressing kisses against Alex’s neck and sucking gently just to make him moan again. “And it was hot as fuck and I want to touch you. Is that okay?” He paused with his fingers on the button of Alex’s jeans. 

Alex looked unconvinced, but he nodded, and Michael undid Alex’s jeans, pulling down his boxer to reveal his cock, soft and surrounded by a mess of cum. Michael inhaled sharply, helplessly turned on by the knowledge that he’d done this by barely touching Alex, barely doing anything but being there. He gently rubbed Alex’s cock, while Alex watched him carefully, his breath catching at each touch. 

“Can I lick you?” Michael asked, feeling out of breath himself. His cock was straining against his jeans, but he would ignore it for a few more minutes in favor of convincing Alex how hot this entire situation was. 

Alex nodded again, breathing heavy with anticipation, and Michael dropped to his knees. Michael licked gently at Alex’s oversensitive cock, grinning as it vainly attempted to twitch back to life, as Alex moaned louder, un-self-consciously. Michael sucked very softly at the tip of Alex’s cock, and then licked at the cum on his skin, looking up to meet Alex’s eyes. Alex groaned, gripping Michael’s hair again while Michael ran his tongue over every drop of cum on Alex’s skin. 

Michael grinned up at Alex, licking at the cum still on his lips, and Alex swore and pulled Michael to his feet, abruptly shoving him against the other wall of the stall and kissing him more fiercely than he had yet the entire evening. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Alex said, pulling back, and it didn’t sound like an insult. He pulled at Michael’s belt buckle, tugging it open and starting on his jeans. “I’ve been waiting to touch you, too.”

Michael leaned his head back against the wall of the stall as Alex tore open his jeans and pulled out Michael’s cock, stroking it softly. Alex licked his lips, and Michael felt overwhelmed by it—the touches and the look on Alex’s face, like he wanted this as much as Michael had wanted him. He was already on the edge from the dancing, from licking Alex, and Michael thrust up into Alex’s fist as Alex kissed him again. 

Alex tightened his grip, slicking the way with the precum beading from Michael’s cock, stroking him so well that Michael had a moment where he was afraid he’d imagined it all, that he was alone in his trailer dreaming of this, his own hand on his cock. But it was real, and happening—Alex was jerking him off in a bathroom at a club after cumming on the floor while they were dancing, and Michael was both ecstatically happy and shaken to his core to realize that over all these years, nothing had changed about the way he felt for Alex, not at all. 

“Cum for me, Michael,” Alex said, pressing his lips to Michael’s ear, nipping at his earlobe, “and then we can leave, and I can show you the motel room I got for tonight.”

Michael groaned. Alex’s voice was commanding, more sure than he remembered it, and he was working Michael’s cock so well, and Michael wanted the motel room, wanted to lie curled together in a bed with Alex, wanted to wake up next to him and pretend like it wasn’t temporary. 

Alex sucked the spot right under Michael’s ear and sped up his hand, and Michael thrust against him a few more times before he came into Alex’s fist, whispering Alex’s name. 

“Good,” Alex said, sounding deeply affected but also like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to praise Michael or not. 

Michael beamed at him and kissed him deeply. Alex smiled when they broke apart and tucked Michael back into his jeans, wiping his hand on toilet paper. 

“Licking it up is less messy,” Michael said facetiously, and Alex snorted. 

“I’ll keep that in mind for later.” 

Michael laughed and buckled his belt again, waiting for Alex to do up his jeans before pushing open the door to the stall, dragging Alex out by the hand, kissing him in front of the row of sinks before Alex shook his head and pulled Michael out of the bathroom. 

The club was still playing the same music, so similar that it might have even been the same song, and Michael was only a little bit regretful as they left. There was something special about this, about the first time they’d been together with no threat of being caught, of feeling like they were doing something they shouldn’t be. Michael had never really believed that anyway, but the fear was infectious, and it had always hung over their heads. Now the only thing hanging over them was the next morning, when Michael would presumably have to drive back to Roswell and Alex would go back to somewhere else. 

Alex walked with Michael over to his truck, smiling at it with something that was almost nostalgia before they climbed in, explaining that he’d taken a taxi, to keep from leaving a trail. Michael felt a pang in his chest at that, but let it go—there wasn’t time to touch on everything. 

Michael started the truck and Alex gave directions to the motel. It was a short drive, and Michael was still vibrating with the need to touch Alex, the small distance between seats in the truck feeling like a chasm after being so close at the club.

“Motel was a damn good thought,” Michael said as they pulled up to it, a nice enough looking place, although the neon sign was a garish red cowboy outline that blared across the parking lot. 

Alex smiled. “I thought there was at least a chance you’d come.”

Michael parked the truck, shutting off the engine and looking at Alex seriously in the red light of the lot. He could see the guarded expression wanting to break through on Alex’s face again, and Michael would do anything to keep it away, to keep Alex open and smiling and telling him he was good. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll always come when you ask.”

It was a promise he didn’t know he could keep, but it felt right to say it, it felt like the ache in Michael’s chest eased a little. It felt like knitting something together that he didn’t know was even broken. 

“I’ll always ask,” Alex said simply, and Michael felt warmth course through him with the words. “Now let’s go inside because I need to touch you again, and I’d really like it to be in a bed and not in public.”

Michael laughed and reached tentatively across the seat to squeeze Alex’s hand. “Seem to remember you not minding the whole public thing about half an hour ago.”

Alex rolled his eyes, and his expression turned teasing. “Yeah, but I’m better in private.”

Michael grinned, feeling his cheeks heat up, and pulled Alex from the truck. They were definitely going to have to test that.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm still pretty new here, come say hi to me on tumblr! - [my RNM sideblog](https://ineverlookavvay.tumblr.com)


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